To Live Is to Learn How to Fly
by Tettekete
Summary: "With skin as green as sin - as Nanny had said - and eyes as sharp as her little teeth, Elphaba was unlike anything Oz had ever seen." A glance into the life and mind of the Witch of the West. HIATUS.
1. Prologue

**Prologue.**

**Authors note: Hello readers! I was hesitant to start updating this on here, but hey, why not. With this fic I hope to analyse Elphaba's character, the layers to her personality and her motives, and to do that I'm sticking to both the musical and the book and sort of meshing them together into some kind of biographical story... thing. Hope you enjoy!  
**

* * *

_"She is no longer I, she is too long ago, she is only she..." - Gregory Maguire, "Wicked"_

* * *

Elphaba Thropp, the Third Descending of Munchkinland, was different from the moment she was born. With skin as green as sin - as Nanny had said - and eyes as sharp as her little teeth, Elphaba was unlike anything Oz had ever seen. A little dragon, according to her father. Vicious, and unable to be tamed. The horror that coursed through Frex's veins as she had been born still gnawed at him every now and then. She was _his daughter_. But the young infant Elphaba remained clueless of his observations, and happily chewed on anything that was close enough to catch with her mouth; fingers and toys alike.

She was an inquisitive little thing. Observant. Smart, even at such a young age; Curious about much and held back by much more. If she had been instantly affected by the lack of parental affection in the first months of her life, Elphaba did not show it. The simple fact was that she didn't know any different.

She knew not of her family's embarrassment, their shame, for she was too young to understand, and too feared to be made aware. All she knew was Nanny's assistance and care (if it could be called such a thing, when the old woman only touched her when absolutely necessary), and that the world around her was so unlike herself.

For one thing, she could not touch water.

She had found out the hard way, when, several hours after her dramatic entry into the world, her terrified midwives had attempted to set her down in a small tin bath tub. Maybe some of the green would come off, they joked. But little Elphaba had screamed bloody murder, and clawed and writhed until she was safely out of the water. A sign of the Devil, is what Frex had called it.

She was a demon child, a sinful little monster with a thirst for knowledge and no remorse, and he pushed her away. Held her back with his refusal to acknowledge her; his refusal to treat her as his own and love her. He even tried to stop Melena from holding her, out of fear that she would snap and claw. It was that lack of love, of acceptance, that began to shape Elphaba from the moment she came into the world.


	2. Chapter 1: Changes

**Chapter 1.**

**Authors note: I just want to give a little shout out to my wonderful beta-reader and friend JennMaryn, and I encourage you to read her Nessarose-centric fic "Deserving of the Mirror". Happy reading!**

* * *

"_The world unwraps itself to you, again and again as soon as you are ready to see it anew."_

― _Gregory Maguire, "Wicked"_

* * *

As the months went by, the little green wonder had found her feet and learned to crawl on all fours. And then eventually, as more time passed, she learned to walk. That's all there ever was. Time. And very little to do with it, save for reading and wondering.

With her newfound freedom, Elphaba began the routine of scuttling around the kitchens, frightening the cook as she did so with her strange feral curiosity, and playing with the Mice. They were not weary of her like her father was; she knew this.

The young Thropp appeared more Animalistic than human at times, in Frex's unforgiving eyes. Obscene, blasphemous in her own existence (little Fabala had even once imitated the roar of a beast after he had made some remark about her serpentine colouring, and Nanny had stifled a laugh behind the horrified man's back). Still he did not warm to her. Still he kept her at a safe distance. He eventually grew to tolerate her presence, however, though it was no small victory. The pious man had simply not learned to open his mind to her, his heart. Somehow, Elphaba had subconsciously accepted it, along with the sense of failure she hadn't yet learned to recognise.

* * *

It was a cold winters day, one of many - snow fell in volumous amounts, swirling and glittering in the setting sunlight, battering against the windows. Elphaba sat against the window's ledge, clutching a worn story book that had been gifted to her by Nanny several weeks prior. Although only three years old, little Elphaba was growing fast; mentally, moreso than physically, though she was already taller than average for her age. Her mind was full of questions - ones she didn't know how to ask, or what they even meant in the grand scheme of things. But she was stirred very little by affection or outward emotion.

Perhaps the constant strain between her and her father had forced her into impassiveness. Who could say?

More than anything, though, the young Elphaba was interested in learning. She craved the knowledge and the impossibility of imagination from such a young age, and Nanny had begun to teach her to read. It was an escape. It was intelligence. It was something meaningful, something new. Her mother and father had no time for such things.

Frexspar was rarely at home during the day, instead choosing to roam the lands, preaching his sermons and only the Unnamed God knew what else. Upon his arrival in the evenings, his attentions always returned to Melena and the ever growing bump she concealed under her loose gowns. "You must keep taking these, dear," Frex said as he did each night, handing a small bottle across the table to his beloved wife. "For our child."

Elphaba could only look on, ignored and perplexed, still clutching her dog eared book to her chest.

* * *

Screams in the dead of night awoke Elphaba from her peaceful slumber. Footsteps clomped past the door of the spare room she inhabited, rushing back and forth, and the light outside flickered through the gap between the door and the polished flooring. Curious, Elphaba paced across the room, bare little green feet moving silently and steadily as though she were stalking prey. Thin fingers prodded and pried the door open a few more inches, giving her enough space to glance out into the hall. She stood perfectly still, statuesque, listening carefully to the sounds coming from the master bedroom a few doors away.

A wail of agony, cries of distress. _Voices_, there were so many voices. Elphaba could barely understand what was being said and, instinctively, crept out of her room toward the source of the commotion. A door slammed open, and suddenly Nanny shuffled towards her in a panic. "Ooh little one, you mustn't be out of bed, dear! Not now!"

Elphaba looked up at the old woman, eyes full of wonder and slight... concern? Yes, yes it was concern. The child was as green as grass, but she could still feel. Her strange sense of emotion was just that. Emotion. She was still human, no matter what her religious father thought of her. Glancing across the hall, Elphaba shook her head and wrenched herself away from her minder, scuttling toward the door at the farthest end of the corridor. It was at that moment when Frex stormed out, almost knocking the oak door off its hinges with the sheer force of his stride.

He stopped only to wipe tears from his reddened face, slumped to one side in the doorway. "Nanny, it's dreadful. Melena is gone," he choked.

Elphaba's dark eyes remained fixed on her father. She was tearless, numb and inquisitive. Quite the opposite of the man standing before her. Gone where? What did father mean by that? She looked around at Nanny, who appeared just as devastated as the preacher himself, and shrank back into the nearest corner. Frex whipped around, having noticed the blur of green out of the corner of his vision, and pointed at his offspring with a warning glare. "Stay _out_ of the room," he spat, voice laced in mysery and terror. "My little Nessarose needs her rest. You are not to wake her."

The young Thropp felt hands grasp her shoulders all of a sudden - the hands of her father - and stiffened out of instinct. She was unused to such physical contact. So very unused to being guided and shown the way, even in this manner. Elphaba found herself being guided roughly back into the darkness of her room, and the door slammed shut behind her.

All was silent now, save for the owl (or was it an Owl?) that sat, ever watchful on a tree branch outside her window. Elphaba settled back onto her bed, her arms curling and pulling her knees to her chest.

_Nessa...rose?_


	3. Chapter 2: Bonds

**Chapter 2.**

* * *

_"Well, the family always was bright, and brightness, as you know, decays brilliantly." - Gregory Maguire, "Wicked"_

* * *

It was early; the sun had not yet risen fully. It was far too early for anyone to be up and about on a Sunday, especially after such a restless night. But a horrific night it was, and Elphaba had spent much of it listening to the muffled sounds of her father and Nanny conversing throughout the early hours of the morning. Her father sobbing over his loss and his gain - his newborn daughter. Her father coming undone when he thought no one could hear him. But Elphaba could hear him, the stern father, and she could do nothing but listen, for Frex would not let her into the master bedroom to see Nessarose.

Her baby sister.

When the curiosity became almost unbearable and the house finally grew quiet, little Elphaba scrambled out of the room as quietly as she knew how. Floorboards creaked beneath her thin feet, but she crept along just the same, driven by the desire to discover just what had caused such a commotion during the night. She thought of her mother. Gone, Frex had said. Gone. Not here, never here. She had never truly been there, not entirely for Elphaba's benefit. The thought vanished as soon as Elphaba had thought it, leaving her unsettled and strangely ridden with the numbness of loss, though she did not yet understand any of it... the family ties, nor the empathy toward her austere father.

Once Elphaba had reached Frex's bedroom, she paused - like a feline lurking, about to pounce, and no longer a child. Her fingers grappled with the brass handle and she eased the door open wide enough so as to slip through undetected. And there it was, settled beside the bed. A wicker basket, draped with linen and soft pillows. A tiny baby nestled in the middle of it all, fast asleep. Pale skin, and hints of dark hair. Perfect, porcelain skin... she was beautiful. A _normal_ colour.

Not... green.

Creeping closer, she hooked her fingers over the edge of the basket so as to see the sleeping baby clearly. Never the emotive child, or rather, a child who was conditioned into this way of being, Elphaba found herself to be strangely taken with her new little sister. She puzzled her, drew her in with a mysterious air about her. Elphaba slowly reached into the basket and ran her hand over Nessa's head, through the soft curls with the lightest of touches. Here was someone who wouldn't judge her; could not judge her, for she was so new to this harsh world, and could not yet associate the green with evil or corruption or anything Frexspar believed of his forgotten daughter.

Elphaba stood in silence, watching as Nessarose slept. She was oblivious to everything. Peaceful, yet somewhat tangled in her blankets, Elphaba noticed. Little green hands crept into the basket, carefully tugging on the cocoon Nessa had seemingly formed around herself. The resting child did not awaken, even when Elphaba lifted her legs slightly to tuck the blankets around her more comfortably. Already she felt an overwhelming bond between her new sibling and herself. Strange, very strange...

She wrinkled her nose, realising something wasn't quite as it should be. Nessarose's legs. Somehow they didn't feel right, and when the sleeping baby had moved in her slumber, her little legs did not move with her... but she didn't understand, _Oz_, she did not understand any of this_._

Her thoughts were cut short when the door swung open behind her and Frex barged into the room, his face twisted in anger, fear, and everything in between. "I told you not to come in here, didn't I?" He moved toward her, uneasily, his eyes never leaving Elphaba's, and his hand snaking around her wrist. "You mustn't touch her or play with her, she is _delicate!"_ And with that, Elphaba found herself on the other side of the door, standing out in the hallway by herself, wondering what in Oz had happened.

Frex favoured Nessarose already, she was beginning to see that. Why wouldn't he? But he had never favoured her, even before the youngest Thropp came into being. He never had, and there was nothing to be done. Elphaba loved him regardless, in her own way, and she could not change for anyone... just as he could not fully see past the colour of her skin.

Despite everything, she thought of her tiny fragile sister, how little Nessa had nuzzled into her hand as she slept, and everything fell into place.

* * *

It was a fine day in Colwen Grounds. Mid afternoon, the perfect time for refreshments on the porch, according to Nanny. Three china cups clattered onto a neat little table, which had been set out with an assortment of fruits and breads, and the old woman fussed over her sweet little Nessa in her overbearing way._ "We must keep the darling's skin out of the sun, mustn't we, duckies?" _

Elphaba, now thirteen years old, sat awkwardly (jackknifed almost, her tall frame folded rather than curled) in the shade - her pointed nose buried in a book. This was a common sight, one that Nanny and Nessa were used to. The green girl remained vigilant and aware even as she soaked up the words on the page in front of her, however. She did not miss a beat when her sister and their minder struck up a conversation, despite her silence. Knowlege in all forms was of great value to Elphaba, and after all, she had mastered the arts of sarcasm and wit almost as efficiently as she had learned to tend to Nessarose's every need.

Pushing her glasses back up to the bridge of her nose, she set her book down beside her chair and stretched out to pick a handful of grapes from the table. She tossed one in the air, catching it easily with her teeth, and held the rest out to her sister. "Taste, Nessa?"

Nanny clucked like an old hen, muttering about wasting food or something along those lines. Nessarose raised an eyebrow, laughing at Elphaba's antics, and politely refused.

The youngest of the Thropps had grown to be quite pretty. Not all sharp angles like her sister, not at all. She was tragically beautiful, tragically bound to a wheeled chair with her legs as useless as ever. She seemed as breakable as glass and an angel in her own right, in the unlikely case that such beings existed. In Frex's view, perhaps, but not to Elphaba. She was as flawed as any human, but she was devoted to her all the same. She was bound to Nessa by everything; duty, unrelenting guilt, love; and she knew no other way.

* * *

Soft sneezes echoed about the bedroom the Thropp sisters shared; the curtains drawn halfway to block the sunlight from the bed Nessarose dwelled in. The young Thropp rested, propped up against a mass of pillows like the invalid she appeared to be to the outside world. She sneezed and coughed, and a slight fever brought hints of various pinks to her pale face. Seventeen year old Elphaba sat by her side as she was bound to do, a bowl of soup for Nessa in hand, and regaled her with tales of her most recent discussion with their Father (though the term 'discussion' was something of a stretch).

"He is refusing to send me to Shiz, Nessa._.._" Elphaba placed the bowl and cutlery on Nessa's dresser and rose to her feet. "He says I cannot _control_ myself. I'm outspoken and my actions are unbecoming," she spat, pacing, listing Frex's regulations and furrowing her brow as she did so. "I will need a minder. Our dear old Nanny, I suspect, and she cannot leave you." She knew she could attend the university when Nessa went, it was true. But to be deemed so irresponsible... it was unbearable.

Elphaba's eyes suddenly flashed with what she assumed was pent up anger. In a rare display of disappointment and ill temper before her innocent little sister, she kept pacing, hands shaking slightly as she did so. "He said... I cannot understand my consequences, my lack of faith in his Unnamed God. That I'm... _dangerous..._"

Nessarose listened quietly, almost worn out completely by Elphaba's ranting and raving. She focused on her sister as she babbled on, unaware of the spoon and fork rattling on her bedside table until they shot up into the air and began to whiz around the room.

Elphaba yelped, startled, and the fire in her eyes faded somewhat as she tried to track down the flying cutlery.

She felt it now, burning in the palms of her hands. A spark at first, then an unstoppable fire flowing down her arms, all the way to the tips of her toes. It sparked behind her eyelids, pounded in her temples. Raw, pure energy. Unfettered emotion. It had burst from her very core, and she did not know how to control it.

"What have you done? Elphaba...?"

The rise in pitch as Nessa spoke, clearly frightened, only drove Elphaba into a instinctive panic, and the cutlery suddenly plummeted back onto the dresser, splashing soup all over. She froze, panting, hands splayed out defensively before her. Sparing a glance in her sister's direction, she violently shook her head. Dark eyes pleaded with hazel, as if to say _'do not tell Father, please, do not tell Father.'_

She could not give Frexspar yet another reason to look upon her with such disdain... _Dangerous_, he had said. _You must take care of Nessarose. She is delicate..._

"I don't know what came over me," she breathed at last, finally finding the words that sat on her tongue. She would have to take control. She needed to. Disappointing her father was one thing, but to fail her sister... no, she couldn't.

"Nessa, forgive me_..._ Please."


	4. Chapter 3: Transitions

**Chapter 3.**

**Authors note: Just a short chapter this time, guys. Hope you enjoy it anyway. :)**

* * *

_"There was much to hate in this world, and too much to love." - Gregory Maguire, "Wicked"_

* * *

Long verdant fingers flexed, tapping and finally closing around the handles of Nessarose's wheelchair. Elphaba stood behind her sister, anxiously waiting to leave the station platform, as eager and alert as she had been on the train from Nest Hardings. The journey had been uneventful to say the least, but she had no reason for complaint.

Her suitcase lay on a luggage trolley, somewhat battered and beaten in appearance. Elphaba didn't particularly mind, however, and removed herself from the back of her sister's chair so as to haul several other bags on top of her own before they could be dragged up to Crage Hall with the other students' excessive baggage. The feeling inside her at this moment... she could barely describe it. Was it excitement? She wasn't entirely sure. Still, something had changed and indeed, everything around her was so different. The architecture; the very air she breathed; the faces that passed by, staring...

_Oh._

The stares were the same. The jeers. The fear and judgement behind those unfamiliar eyes. And Nessa didn't seem to be as adept in the art of simply ignoring the glares as Elphaba was. The older Thropp had grown used to being on the receiving end of pointed fingers and funny looks, and was quite above them by now. For once, ignorance was bliss.

Rolling her eyes, Elphaba leaned around her sister, bending slightly over the back of her chair. "It's alright, Nessa." She placed her hands stiffly on Nessarose's shoulders, as affectionately as she knew how. The action was practiced by now, and Nessa's anxious squirming had visibly ceased. The navy of her jacket's cuffs stood out against Nessarose's white and blue uniform almost as much as her skin did, she noticed, as she slid her hands back onto the chair's handle. Her... literal vibrance couldn't be helped, no matter how much she had held on to the shadows. Yet here she was, attending one of Oz's most prestigious universities.

Although Frex had reminded her time and again she was only here for Nessa's benefit, it was astonishing. Stepping forward, Elphaba wheeled her sister around to face the vast departure hall. "Father and Nanny are looking for us. Come, Shiz awaits."

The day had arrived. At last, at _last. _

* * *

Small pebbles crunched beneath Elphaba's boots as she steered toward the station exit. She looked down her nose, eyes darting about the crowds; The students, their minders, workers and teachers. There was scarcely an animal or an Animal amongst the lot, save for one old Goat. Elphaba watched, carefully observing as the professor scuffed his hooves against the cobbled path and pushed up his spectacles with some difficulty. Was he the only one?

"_Over here, duckies!"_ A shrill voice snapped Elphaba out of her thoughts and she turned her head in time to see Nessarose waving across the courtyard. Ah, there was their old Nanny, and Father beside her, looking as stern as ever - a strangely decorated box in his grasp. He was anxious to leave his precious Nessa in the hands of an alien institution, Elphaba supposed. Anxious to leave her in the care of her less adequate, less than perfect counterpart. She sighed, exhaling noisily through her nostrils, and escorted her sister to Frex's side.

* * *

Standing awkwardly, expectantly for some reason, Elphaba glanced at the box in her father's clutches as he flipped the lid open and offered it to Nessa. _"As befits the future Governor of Munchkinland."_

_"Father! Jeweled shoes..."_

The magnetism Elphaba felt at that moment was as sudden as it was inexplicable. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the shimmering silver in her sister's hands until she held her breath and reached for the box... was there something for her too? A parting gift?

"_Elphaba_," Her father warned, gruff voice ringing and grating in her ears. "I'm only sending you to this school for _one_ reason. Remember that."

"I know." _'To look after Nessa.'_

The lid dropped, narrowly missing green fingers, and snapped shut before Elphaba could retract. Nothing. There was nothing... There would never be anything for her, because she wasn't of enough importance to Frex. She was an afterthought.

Not at all like Nessarose.

The shoes moved away, and Elphaba could almost feel an otherworldly sense of love being removed with them. Furrowing her brow, she moved her hands back to the safety of Nessarose's chair and watched as Nanny helped to place the dazzling shoes onto the ecstatic girl's feet. "They're gorgeous, Nessa," she managed, effectively swallowing her disappointment. This strange resentment was confusing... but it lingered in the back of her mind, festering in a slightly bitter feeling as she glanced down at her own feet.

_'I don't need these. I don't need anything like this,' _she told herself again and again.

She observed as Frex kissed the top of Nessarose's head. Tenderly and loving, and so unlike the curt nod he offered her instead. "Look after her," he'd said. Elphaba could only nod and watch the distant Father turn to leave, eventually melting away into a swarm of people.

Elphaba took a deep breath, and glanced up to the grand front doors of Crage Hall's main building_. _A huge sign hung above the doorway, glittering and shimmering in the midst of it's intimidating surroundings. As she looked up, a hand placed gingerly on Nessa's shoulder, she suddenly felt the weight of the responsibilities Frex had left her with. The pressure of fitting into this new world; not that she could or _would_, society be damned. But he didn't care, did he? Nessarose was his priority, and Elphaba was left to fend for herself.

_"Come on Elphaba, we're going to be late."_

She nodded, lips finally curling slightly into a small smile, and the sisters began the trek through the doors into the grand hall.

It was about time for a change.


	5. Chapter 4: Impressions

**Chapter 4.**

**Author's note: I'm so sorry it's taken this long for an update (and I apologise for the way this chapter flows... eh, writer's block). My old laptop died and took all my notes with it, so yes, that's been fun. Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

_"But surely the curse was on the land of Oz, not on her." - Gregory Maguire, "Wicked"_

* * *

The first few minutes spent trudging (or wheeling) along the corridors passed in something of a blur for Nessarose. Elphaba could feel the strange air of meek curiosity and nervousness radiating from her. She'd be able to sense _that_ from a mile off, were she ever dropped into a situation that called for sharp senses and nothing else. She swept along, gripping the chair, hawk-like eyes taking everything in as she went. Upon entering the vast main hall in all it's structural magnificence, the sisters were met with a large gaggle of girls, each whooping and tittering louder than the last bunch. It made Elphaba's temples throb, and her face contort slightly with irritation and unease.

"Should we join them?" asked the younger of the two, craning her neck and twisting in her seat with discomfort. Elphaba smirked - a more satisfying expression - and settled a stiff hand on her sister's shoulder. "And risk being trampled in the herd of rabid girls as they graze? If you insist."

"_Elphaba_." Nessa shot her a warning glare, though contradicted altogether by the smile she bit back. The exasperation in her voice was too obvious, though. But it was all so simple - The green girl had no wish to draw too much attention to herself or her younger, porcelain skinned counterpart. Nessarose could wish for normality all she wanted, but all the attention in the world wouldn't be enough for her, Elphaba knew. She would always need more than she could give. No one could see past the painful tangle of calves settled into the footrests of her wheelchair, just as no one could see past her own verdigris. People only pitied, feared or ridiculed. It was something they couldn't escape. But Elphaba had to try, for she had promised her father, and she had promised Nessa.

Things would just have to change.

Elphaba snapped back to attention when the drone of giggling students died down, only to be drowned out by a voice from the center of the room that could have rattled the rafters with it's sheer volume and intensity.

"Welcome, welcome! I am Madame Morrible, Headmistress here at Shiz University," she began, in a booming tone that rendered each student as silent as a rock. Elphaba could only look on as the Headmistress gave her speech, in awe, more than anything else. This was like nothing she had seen before. She was draped in an extravagant outfit which was covered in so many frills and useless veils that she looked like some sort of sea creature, beached and flopping around under its own authority. Elphaba listened, regardless, until the woman commanded that everyone collect their room assignments, and the green girl leaned around her sister.

"I'll handle this, Nessa."

Elphaba was to be placed with her sister, of course. She had to look after her. Who else would do it? She had done it all her life, and was certainly not about to leave her with any old stranger. Failure was absolutely not an option this time, she feared.

* * *

The squeals and jeers flared up again, and suddenly Elphaba's vision was engulfed in something bubbly and blonde, that bounced up and down repeatedly with an arm thrashing about in an annoying manner.

"And you are...?" Morrible had asked, unimpressed. The jumping blonde stopped in her tracks and gave a blinding smile. "I am Galinda Upland. Of the Upper Uplands," she started with a high pitched giggle, and Elphaba fought the urge to cover her own ears.

This was all too much.

Surely it wasn't such a huge task to recieve a room key and leave this Ozforsaken room in favour of some peace and a good book? Even taking care of Nessarose was much less stressful than this... if father wasn't around to shoot down every good deed, anyway. Elphaba rolled her eyes, opting to ignore the whines and giggles coming from Galinda and her groupies, and steered her sister's chair forward. The crowd dispersed, letting them through with ease. The stares didn't go amiss, but would they ever?

"Excuse me, Madame, we haven't recieved our room allocation-"

"Oh! You must be Nessarose Thropp. What a tragically beautiful face you have, my dear."

Elphaba grimaced, not phased in the slightest by being passed over in favour of her much more preferable sister, but sickened instead as Morrible fussed over Nessa with obvious pity and falsely endearing compliments. She strode behind the large woman, sucking in air through her nostrils and suddenly batting her on the shoulder to regain her attention. The ear-splitting screech she recieved in return was not something she had anticipated from a grown woman, but it couldn't be helped. "I am Elphaba Thropp, the other daughter," she claimed, looking down her nose at Morrible. "I'm _beautifully _tragic."

The heavily powdered face of the Headmistress almost cracked in two as she waddled backwards, trying to recover from the shock, it seemed. "Yes, well... I'm sure you're very... _bright_. In any case, Miss Nessarose will share my rooms, where I can assist her as needed. Do not fret!"

Elphaba froze then, her head whipping around to look at her sister with a strange feeling of panic - it was written all over her face, and she was sure Nessarose could read it perfectly. "_Madame-_ I've always looked after my sister-"

The words died on her tongue as her hand was caught in a firm grasp, and forced into a pale, manicured one. _"You see, you can share with Miss Galinda!"_

"_What?!"_

"No!"

Both girls wrenched themselves apart violently, and watched as Madame Morrible wandered off to attend to the other students. Amidst the chaos and wails of annoyance from Galinda, the fragile girl in the chair began to move away, glancing over her shoulder and uttering: "I'll be alright, Elphaba..." Her smile of reassurance was not convincing in the slightest. Elphaba made to reach for her sister, but it was of no use.

"Wait, I promised father-"

_'I've already failed you, Nessa...'_

Elphaba suddenly felt her hands beginning to shake. No, _no_, she had held herself together so well, everything was going as well as it could until now. She watched Galinda stomp her pretty little heels on the floor in a petulant display for her friends, and back to Nessa as another student took hold of the handles of her chair and began to wheel her away... Then something inside her snapped, and all her discipline melted away in an instant.

"Let her _go_!"

The young Thropp was quite literally seeing red, and it shook her very senses into a temporary state of shock. Seconds felt like a lifetime. She could feel what was happening, as the pulsating force of burning energy - magic, even - throbbed in her fingertips and almost exploded upon contact with the air.

_"Elphaba!"_

The green girl in question jumped, her heart lurching at the sudden screech from her sister, and her vision finally cleared. Nessarose's wheelchair had taken on a life of it's own, careening about the place, smoking at the wheels. Elphaba stood, still, hands outstretched and paralysed and unable to do anything but stare until Nessa rolled to a halt beside her. Safe, and unhurt. Elphaba's chest heaved with the weight of her magical exposure and the guilt, _oh_ the guilt.

Everyone's eyes were on her, she realised. Of course, why wouldn't they be? If only father could see me now, she thought bitterly - poisoning the very existence she had fallen into with this ungodly talent or curse she had always been unable to surpress.

Suddenly her sharp eyes fell on Nessarose. The one she'd promised to look after, as it was her duty and she was bound by blood... and she was looking at her with such anger, embarassment... it stung much more than the sniggers and gasps of disgust and outrage from the other students. Even the esteemed Madame Morrible was evidently surprised, her overly exaggerated eyebrows almost disappearing under her ridiculous hairline.

_'How did you do that?'_

_'How did she _do _that?!'_

The words, the utters of horror and excitement and everything in between were lost to Elphaba. She could only lift her chin and stride forward. None of these people knew her. They couldn't see past the green, the awkward rigidity of her tall figure as she tried to catch her breath. The ignorant fools who only followed like sheep and had no sense of their own selves.

Then there was Nessarose - the pious, the pitied. The tragically beautiful one who knew her sister better than she cared to admit. Elphaba would have to have been an idiot to think otherwise.

_'Elphaba, you promised things would be different here...'_

She whirled around, her face contorted in shame and Oz knew what else. Fear of her consequences? No, she knew what she had done. The fear that her father had been right, that she wasn't worthy of being in this place of grandeur with her sister, that she wasn't worthy of anything... that was real, as real as the glasses perched on her nose. But she had failed Nessa once again, and she knew she could prove herself if only she tried. She would have to learn to control her strange quirks, then perhaps the unbearable guilt would vanish. And maybe... just maybe, the answer was right before her eyes, in the form of a large woman who bore a strange resemblance to a heavily decorated fish.

Taking a deep breath, Elphaba addressed Morrible, for it would do her no good to approach the others. Never in front of Nessa.

"_Something_- something just comes over me sometimes," she started, her voice low and urgent with the desire for control of the situation. "It's something I can't quite explain. But I will _try_ to control myself..." Morrible stepped back, her face screwed up in distaste as the green girl moved toward her.

Elphaba ignored the gesture, ignored the squeals and shrill squawks of Galinda and her followers and turned to drop to her knees beside Nessarose's wheelchair. She lightly gripped the younger Thropp's forearm, looking her in the eyes with some intense need for forgiveness.

"Nessa, I'm sorry... it won't happen again."

"You said you would control it." There it was, the cutting edge of disappointment in Nessarose's voice, but she gripped Elphaba's hand with reassurance all the same. The green girl's brow furrowed in concern, and she made to respond when she felt herself being guided away from her sister, being forced to stand upright. She stiffened instinctively at the contact, and came face to face with Morrible - a jarring sight if ever there was one.

"Never apologise for talent!" Boomed Morrible. "Listen, dearie. Have you ever considered a career in sorcery?"

"No, not really." It was true, she hadn't considered anything beyond the craving for knowledge that compelled her to attend this school in the first place.

"Then you shall sign up for my sorcery tutorial, and I will take no other students," Morrible demanded, ignoring Galinda's cries of outrage and her dramatic slither of an exit from the hall.

Elphaba was overcome with a fogginess inside her head, an unpleasant feeling of taking on too much all at once, that she was not familiar with. Everything around her faded away into nothingness; even her sister. She nodded, frowning in her rigid way, and Morrible's words went right over her head. Yes, sorcery, how _grand, _when her only interests lay with the life sciences. She couldn't quite believe her ears though, at the Head's next claim.

"Perhaps... even The Wizard would be interested to hear of your talents."

Elphaba was stunned. What would she have to offer? Her penchant for sorcery was only a nuisance, yet her jaw almost dropped all the same.

"_The_ Wizard...?"


	6. Chapter 5: Connections

**Chapter 5.**

* * *

_"It's unbecoming," she agreed. "A perfect word for my new life. Unbecoming. I who have always been unbecoming am becoming an un." – Gregory Maguire, "Wicked"_

* * *

"What an _insufferable_ morning," Elphaba muttered to herself through grit teeth. She picked at an apple, nibbling at it with precision as she propped a book open with one hand. Nimble fingers flicked away tiny shreds of the fruit's skin, and Elphaba didn't much care if they found themselves in the fluffy pink circus tent that was her dear roommate's bed.

The dorm room was vacant save for the green girl herself, and she was glad of it. The hour of peace and quiet that breakfast afforded was a godsend. Galinda was not a morning person, and frequently complained about how unfair it was for her to be up so early to primp and preen before the day's classes began. It made the Thropp's head throb with each syllable. Luckily the young Arduenna was prone to meeting with her squealing friends over croissants and tea during the week, and so Elphaba would sit, reading, jammed into the corner of her bed, having already made herself ready hours before the blonde beast rose. The unlikely roommates were not always at one another's throats; though Elphaba rather enjoyed prodding at Galinda to the point of exhaustion, if only to provoke some thought from the blonde's glitter filled brain. It was in there, all right, buried under blonde curls and hair products galore. Bickering came naturally, and besides, Elphaba had honed the ability to tune out Galinda's incessant giggling whenever it grew to be too much.

Sleep did not always come easily to Elphaba. She seldom fell asleep while her roommate was still up and about at her dresser, and almost always awoke some time before her. She did not know why her internal clock kept her at this pace, but it did, and so she flicked over another page with her finger all the same. It didn't particularly matter to her; she'd never needed that much rest, and all her mind craved in the late hours was knowledge – the words on the page, the pathetic escape they brought.

Elphaba's mind drifted to Nessarose. After the scene she'd caused at the room assignment meeting two weeks prior, she was sure her perfectly dignified little sister was still thoroughly mortified at her outburst, even now. Another student had made to help her on her way, already pushing Elphaba aside and out of her sisterly duties like she was nothing. Rendering her a failure. But she had seen Nessa's face, and Nessa had heard Madame Morrible's claim. That she would write to the Wizard regarding Elphaba's strange knack for magic. The Wonderful Wizard himself!

And Nessa had looked happy for her in those few seconds. She'd looked _proud_, even, and that was enough.

A thought flickered through her mind in sparkling silver, just like those shoes... she could picture them now, tucked up inside their little case beside Nessa's bed as she slept, radiating with all the hope and love she craved yet was so far from...

She pondered writing to Frex, to tell him how things were settling, tell him how Nessarose was doing, but thought better of it. Surely she had more important things on which to spend her time. The time, the time—"Oh, for _Oz's sake_!" The green girl leapt up at the realisation of the time. Doctor Dillamond's lecture was due to start in fifteen minutes, and she'd be damned if she missed a second of the old Goat's time. Galinda and the Misses Shenshen, Pfannee and Milla were generally fashionably late, according to the blonde, and Elphaba reminded her she had no use for lateness or any ridiculous _fashion _and so she would be on time. She cursed her thoughts, cursed herself, though she felt cursed already. Elphaba swept out of the room, slinging her book bag over her shoulder with efficiency and slammed the door shut, leaving room 22 in relative silence.

* * *

Elphaba sighed, flipping her notebook open to the correct page and twiddling her quill between her fingers. She took a quick look about the room, a silent glance down her nose and over the edge of her glasses. The jeers had more or less dwindled into the odd pointed finger by now, as the unruliest of students had gotten bored of poking fun at her serpentesque skin colouring. But they were rowdy as always, chattering and sitting on tables until the Goat teacher scuffed his hoof on the ground in an attempt to gain some control. "Settle down, class. Settle _down_. We are about to begin."

The green girl snapped to attention immediately, gladly letting the noise from the class fade away into the background. She'd hardly known Doctor Dillamond for more than a fortnight, but already she felt a strange connection with the old Goat. As he was an Animal in a position of authority, the only one perhaps, Elphaba found that she had built up a strong admiration for him and his teaching and looked forward to attending his classes more than anything. And he didn't seem to mind _her_, which suited her perfectly.

Doctor Dillamond began his lecture, thwacking the blackboard with a wooden cane now and again to emphasise his speech, and as Elphaba suspected, to surprise the other students out of their mindless daydreaming. It was then that the green girl noticed an empty seat to the side of the room, directly behind the space her sister took with her wheelchair. _Oh_, Nessa.

Elphaba felt a pang of guilt strike her at the sight of Nessarose. The thought of her having to share quarters with Horrible Morrible, of all people, when Elphaba had been instructed by their father...! But Nessa appeared to be well – happy, even; her cheeks slightly rosy and her chin resting on her hands, and her dark eyes on the Munchkin in front of her. Was Nessa's happiness not good for her, too? Elphaba observed from behind her textbook, intrigued by the sparkle in her eyes, and in the end concluded that Nessarose's not so subtle want for the boy's attention was nothing to do with her.

A sudden slam of the classroom door interrupted her thoughts, and she breathed a heavy sigh through her nose at the voice that followed.

Galinda strutted into the room, all flirt and flounce as per usual, and quickly took her seat. "Do go on, Professor. I'm sorry I'm so late, of course, but shouldn't you teach us history, rather than harping on the past?" She giggled and flicked a golden curl over her shoulder, oozing sickly charm and innocence. Shenshen and Pfanee laughed, making a spectacle of themselves, but Galinda's statement only made Elphaba roll her eyes in the blonde's direction. Her sneer did not go unnoticed.

"It seems the sprout is steamed," Galinda chirped, eliciting laughter from all sides of the classroom. Elphaba's head whipped around, her eyes boring into the blonde's skull with such intensity she thought she would burst a blood vessel, and preferably not her own. Her chair scraped across the floor as she made to stand, her hands balled into tight, bony fists, but Doctor Dillamond intervened before she could. "Silence, silence! We are here to learn, and nothing more. Miss Elphaba, please kindly take your seat." His voice was gentle as he addressed her, and he looked at Elphaba with a soft stare. She nodded, uttering a quiet "Yes" and quickly regained her composure, choosing to ignore her roommate for the duration of the class, no matter how satisfying it would be to shoot down her ignorant remarks.

Elphaba's attention returned to Nessarose. Their eyes met for a moment, and the older sister's sharp jaw tightened at the disappointment she found written all over the younger's face.

* * *

"Miss Elphaba, I'd like to speak with you for a moment, if you don't mind? You can return to your friends soon enough."

The students had scattered and vacated as soon as the Goat professor had dismissed the class, leaving only he and Elphaba behind. The green girl took her time sliding her books into her bag and papers back into their coverings, and had no desire to rush off to the outside world. No desire to be heckled, and therefore forced to sit in the small room she shared with Miss Popularity herself.

"Of course." Elphaba perched rigidly on the very edge of Dillamond's desk, book bag clasped tightly under one arm. "And that's quite alright. I have no friends. Merely acquaintances."

"Yes, well..." The old Goat padded across to his blackboard, smearing the day's chalked notes off with his sleeve. His brow crinkled into a strange frown – an expression Elphaba had never seen on his face before. "Elphaba. I'm sure you've noticed the distinct absence of Animals here at Shiz."

The young Thropp prompted him to continue with a curt nod, a slight tilt of the head. It was true – she had noticed this the very moment she had arrived at Shiz, with Nessarose in tow. She had seen Doctor Dillamond mingling with the staff, the students... he stood out against the drab backdrop of Gillikinese, Munchkinlanders and City dwellers. It had unsettled her even then, and perhaps he sympathised with her, _too_, in all her green glory. She stared at him with those piercing yet entirely vulnerable eyes.

"There is something bad happening here, I am sure of it. Something awful happening to the Animals of Oz. A cull, as it were. My dear Elphaba, there are Animals who are losing the ability to teach, to live, to _speak. _It seems I am the only one left in a position of power here at this University, and that is where I must ask you a favour."

Elphaba grit her teeth. A vein throbbed in the side of her forehead. "How can this be happening? How can people be so ignorant- so _blind_ that this can happen?" She felt sick to her stomach at the thought that something could actively eliminate the oppressed so easily, and yet no one cared enough to investigate the matter further. The discrimination toward the intelligent, speaking and thinking Animals of the land was nauseating. The green girl empathised with them on many a level, she found. They did not live with the intention of only pleasing others, they existed for the sake of living a decent life that was denied by their appearance alone. They were treated as sub-par, as not quite good enough, and she certainly knew how that felt. Elphaba unclenched her jaw, removed her biting fingernails from tearing the edge of her book bag when Doctor Dillamond's voice pulled her from her musings.

"If you discourage someone enough from speaking out, you can keep anyone silent." He muttered, lowering his head. "But all the same, I'd like to know if you'd be interested in helping me with my research at the old lab by the Crage Hall library. Odd weeknights, if you feel up to it."

Elphaba felt her entire being expel the weight of everything with those words. It gave her some purpose, she realised. A greater cause than she could yet imagine. "I would be honoured, Doctor Dillamond."


End file.
